


Distant Memories

by loganhowlett



Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU, Marvel, Wonder Woman (2017), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:11:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loganhowlett/pseuds/loganhowlett
Summary: Diana Prince and James "Logan" Howlett. Two people incapable of aging. Will this allow them to always be together, never growing old? Or will they be ripped apart?A collection of their interactions throughout the past one-hundred years. Some are longer than others.





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really know what i'm doing with this fic sjdflskgl also i'm not educated on the various aspects of different time periods so some details could be wrong

1918\. France

The air was gray with smoke left over from the previous battle. Soldiers covered in dirt and blood were led into the medical tents where their wounds would be tended to. Diana sat on a stool that had been placed outside of the tents, looking at the scene in front of her. She’d fought alongside men in the War to End All Wars for only a short time, but she had seen more than she could have ever imagined. Battle was something that she’d trained her whole life for. She’d always wanted to fight, but seeing the results of war firsthand, the blood and the tears and the screams, was a different story altogether.

Getting up, she headed towards a broken birdbath that carried water from the rains that splattered against the earth the previous days before the German soldiers advanced on the British and Canadian troops. They were set up in a town that was long ago emptied by the violence of the war, stores scattered about with broken windows and light posts that had been knocked down littering the streets.

Diana scooped water into her hands, rubbing them against her arms to get the soot and dirt off her. The cold water was a relief, distracting her from thoughts of war and explosions. Her mind filled with the image of green grass, tall mountains, and a bright blue sea. Her home.

“We’ve got another one!” The words shook her back into the reality that was before her. Looking behind her, she saw a group of soldiers carrying a man towards the tents. A doctor brought out a stretcher, setting it next to the entrance. The tent was on the verge of overflowing with the wounded. The soldiers laid the man down on the stretcher.

“He’s dead.” A man with a clean shaven faced dirtied with grime that substituted for facial hair hugged his arms to his chest, clearly anxious. “He has to be. But he’s warm! And I think I felt a pulse, but there’s a bullet in his head! He can’t be alive.”

Diana made her way over to the scene, not drawing the attention of the soldiers before her. She’d learned to be quiet in her steps, part of her training. She could see the face of the man that lay on the stretcher now. Indeed, he had been shot in the head.

The doctor put his fingers against the man’s neck and looked up at the dirtied solider with a look of confusion. “There’s a pulse.”

“Who is he?” Diana found herself saying before she could stop herself. The men, surprised, turned around and looked at her.

“Corporal Howlett.” The solider said, leaning over to read the tag on the man’s uniform.

Diana stepped closer, looking down at the soldier who lay on the stretcher. Corporal Howlett. His hair was brown and shaggy, wet from the mud that lingered on the ground. There was something about him that seemed ancient, like an artifact discovered on an archeology mission.

Then something happened. The bullet that was sunken into his skin began to protrude outwards until it was out of the skin completely, tumbling down the side of his face and clattering on the ground. The wound where the bullet had been started to close.

Before any of them could react, hazel eyes shot open. The man shot up, sitting in an upright position. He breathed heavily as he looked around at them, eyes wide and meeting with Diana’s briefly before jumping off the stretcher and taking off without a word. He quickly disappeared in the crowd of soldiers, but Diana followed in pursuit. Skirting past soldiers and nurses, she caught sight of him running into the woods. He was aware he was being followed, his head darting back towards her before submerging himself into the trees. Her feet pounding against the ground, she ran a few more feet before pushing off the ground, soaring above the tree line and landing in the middle of the woods, crouched down with her hand slamming against the ground. She got up and turned around as the Corporal skidded to a halt in front of her, a look of dumbfound confusion on his face.

“How did you-?” he breathed.

“You healed.” She said, looking at him with curious eyes.

“Who are you?”

“I am Diana of Themyscira. Daughter of Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons. Who are you, Corporal Howlett?”

“I’m getting out of here, that’s who I am.” He started running again, but she was faster, superhumanly faster, zipping in front of him and catching him so off guard he almost slammed into her. “

Who are you?” she repeated.

He looked at her confusedly before looking down at the ground. He seemed to ponder the question.

“Name’s Logan.” He finally said.

She looked at him, at this man who was presumably dead on a stretcher one second and then running off into the woods the next. A squirrel skittered past as they stood there in an awkward silence.

“You’re like me, aren’t you?” he said, breaking the silence.

“Like you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“They call us mutants.” His voice was gruff.

“I am an Amazon.”

“An Amazon? What is that supposed to be?”

She sighed, slightly exasperated. “We are the bridge to a greater understanding between all men.”

His mouth turned up slightly. “Sure. Whatever that means.”

The sound of footsteps approached, turning both of their attentions behind them.

He turned towards her. “I gotta go.”

Before she could say anything, he hastened off. Too confused over the events of the last ten minutes, she could only stand there and watch him disappear amongst the green sea of leaves.


	2. Lenny's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets pretend that i know what i'm doing

Chicago. 1920.

  
The thick, gray clouds that were dotted across the night sky made it hard for Diana to see the stars. That, and the light emanating from the city below. The roof of the apartment building was cold against Diana’s back as she stared up at the sky. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sky as a canvas painted with stars, bright and twinkling against a dark blue night, the sound of waves colliding with the cliffside. It was the quiet moments like these that made her miss home.

  
The sounds that were before her, not tucked away in a secret part of her mind like the waves, were of people laughing loudly as they drunkenly stumbled home. Prohibition had been in place for nearly a year, but the citizens of Chicago were not to be bothered by it.

  
Diana got up and walked over to the ledge, looking down at the entrance to the club, Lenny’s, across the street. She’d been there a few times, not to drink, but to meet people. Those who lived in the world of men were very different from those she knew on Themyscira. Each new person she met was like discovering a new book, filled with twists and surprises and amazing details.

  
Making sure no one was looking, she leaped from the roof and landed gracefully on the sidewalk below. She crossed the street and entered the building.

  
The club was not on this floor, but in the basement. It was to be kept hidden from the authorities, the top floor serving as a restaurant. Diana headed for the door in the back of the room that was guarded by a tall man with broad shoulders that opened the door as soon as he saw her. She nodded to him and gave him a friendly smile as she entered the doorway. It led to a staircase, taking her down to a hallway that led to another door, whose guard opened once he saw Diana. The people here knew her.

  
The room was soaked in warm light, as if a fire was crackling in the center of the dancefloor. People laughed and talked, while others danced to the music that the performers on stage played. Diana took a seat at one of the tables. A few minutes later, a glass of water was set on the table by a waiter named Daniel. She thanked him as she grabbed the glass and took a sip.

  
She watched the partygoers dance and giggled when a man dipped his dance partner, causing the girl to yelp with laughter. A movement from the bar caught her attention. A man, donned in a white suit, swiveled in his chair to investigate the noise. She only saw the side of his face for a split second, but a wave of familiarity washed over her. She’d seen this man before, but where she’d seen him and who he was escaped her.

  
He turned back towards the bar, shoulders hunching low.

  
Daniel came to refill her glass of water. “Thank you.” She said with a sweet smile. “Daniel, who is that man?” She pointed towards the bar.

  
Daniel’s gaze followed her finger, landing on the man. “That’s Jimmy. He’s been here a few times. Bit of a grumpy fella if you ask me.”

  
She looked at the man as Daniel left to tend to other customers, thinking that if she looked at him, he’d turn around so that she could see his face from the front. She knew that she’d known him from somewhere.

  
The man, Jimmy, got up from his stool, reached into his pocket and placed a wad of cash on the table before turning around to scan the room. His eyes stopped on Diana as she recognized who he was. The man from the war who’d healed from a bullet to the head. His look went from confusion to recognition and she knew that he realized who she was too.

  
He looked different. He was clean shaven with his hair slicked back, a stark contrast from the dirt covered man that she saw two years before. To a less perceptive person, he would have been unrecognizable, but Diana remembered faces well.

  
She gestured towards the chair across from her, signaling for him to come sit down. He came towards her and sat down.

  
“The Amazon.” He said as a way of greeting. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

  
“Corporal.” She said.

  
“Logan.” He corrected, pulling a cigar from his pocket along with a lighter, putting the flame against the bottom of the cigar and inhaling the smoke. “Jump over any trees lately?”

  
“Not recently. Suffered any fatal bullet wounds since France?”

  
“Not in a few weeks.” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  
Diana placed her arms on the table and leaned forward as if she were listening to a secret being told. “How did you survive?”

  
He shrugged. “It’s just how I am. Wounds heal.” He placed the burning part of the cigar against his hand and winced. The skin was red and blistered before immediately returning to its normal color and texture.

  
“I heal impressively, but I’ve never seen anything like that.” She said, staring at his uninjured hand.

  
“You too? You sure you’re not a mutant?”

  
“I’m sure.” She answered.

  
“Then how’d you jump so high? How were you so fast?”

  
“It’s just how I am.” She repeated his words.

  
His smile almost showed teeth.

  
The music got slower, the occupants of the dance floor holding on to each other as they started to sway back and forth. Diana looked at them wistfully. She’d only danced once before.

  
“Do you dance, Logan?” she asked.

  
“No.” he gruffed.

  
“Why not?”

  
He shrugged. “It’s not my thing.”

  
She clutched the glass of water in her hand, suddenly focused on the drink rather than the people on the dancefloor. Memories were resurfacing that she wasn’t ready to think about.

  
“If you don’t have the right partner, it’s…pointless.” She looked up at him and she could see that there were questions in his eyes, but he didn’t pry. She was glad. She quickly changed the subject. “So, how long have you had this gift?”

  
“Gift?” he questioned, eyebrow raised.

  
“Your healing ability.” She answered.

  
He scoffed. “I wouldn’t consider it a gift.”

  
“You were shot in the head. You shouldn’t be here right now, but you are. That is a gift, Logan.”

  
“Look,” he said, suddenly stern. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. You don’t know what I’ve been through-.”

  
“And you don’t know what I’ve been through.” She cut him off. Something in her voice caused his face to soften slightly.

  
He put out his cigar in the dish on the table. “It was real nice chattin’ with you. But I gotta go.” He pushed out from his chair and stood up.

  
“Wait.” She stood up as well, causing him to pause. “I live in the apartment building across the street. If you ever need anything…you can find me there.”

  
He seemed to consider her offer. “Thanks.” He muttered, and then he was gone again.


End file.
